Chapter 16: Sootgrass Outpost

In a blur of banana colored leather, the Rogue dispatched me effortlessly. Frustrated at my frailty, I hovered near to observe as a spirit.

Azwold attempted once to cast [Spell: Summon Skeleton], but DarkNeon tossed a stone, knocking his tablet to the dirt. Rogues had access to more spell interruption abilities than most classes, but why waste them on me? Perhaps his strategy was to cast something stronger once her spell interrupts were on cooldown.

The Rogue then performed a brief dance, casting [Spell: Hologram II]. She vanished, then reappeared in triplicate. DarkNeon and her clones triangulated themselves with Azwold in the center, then cast [Spell: Prismatic Daggers], and each clone threw a series of rapid-fire knives at him. I watched slivers of his life bar tick away, affected by several weak status debuts: a frost slow, a fire DOT, and a poison DOT.

In response, Azwold cast [Spell: Siphon II]. Normally, it channeled a percentage from his target’s mana and health to himself. The gamble only had a 33.33%—repeating, of course—chance of success. But he had cast it on a hologram, siphoning only simulated photons, and receiving no benefit.

DarkNeon giggled, then bent light around herself, sliding from view.

Azwold frowned, taking out his last [Gloomgill Bulb], then cast [Spell: Umbral Veil]. They were invisible to each other, but as the mage’s minion, I could watch him storm away. I realized he was heading for a short hill behind the tavern. Beyond lie a tiny graveyard.

He intended to gain an upper hand by fighting with a graveyard advantage.

“C’mon, let’s go!” he hollered as the cloak of shadows faded from him.

Instantly, the Rogue leapt at him with a double dagger slash. Azwold parried one dagger with the [Hive Scepter], but the other rent a slash through his [Tomb Cloak] and into his leg.

DarkNeon backflipped away, preparing her next move.

Azwold cast [Spell: Rise Hex III], and the yard’s shallow graves trembled, weathered stones shifting. Dirt split and six lesser undead crawled their way up into the fight.

From a distance, the Rogue cast [Spell: Scan], inspecting Azwold’s gear and stats, but more importantly, identifying his weaknesses. The lesser undead were upon her in moments, but she cast [Spell: Dazzle III] as the first ghoul was mid claw swing. Then dashed away. The bone creatures bumbled in place, twinkle stars spinning above them.

“Still think my build’s weak?” she called from an invisible place.

“Tricks and delays,” said Azwold. “That’s all it is. Where’s the DPS? You’re a damage class.”

“Disrespecting other peoples’ play style is kinda rude, don’thca think?”

“There’s a reason nobody plays Light Rogues.”

“Careful Azzy, or you’re gonna start thinking like Telemoon goons. Not good enough unless it’s efficient on paper?”

“Okay, you have a point,” he said, “but my quest is important. I can’t take on a joke build liability.”

“Joke build?” she scoffed. “Alright, that’s it.”

Then she dashed into view, and out of view, weaving in and out, landing rapid hits. Azwold’s command of his [Spell: Rise Hex III] minions weakened. His health bar dipped into the orange.

But the hits kept coming. Each moment Azwold made a move, she stunned, or blinded, or interrupted, or out maneuvered him. She was too fast. Her battle rhythm and muscle memory was near flawless.

She minimized the damage of Azwold’s ghouls, who could only swing for basic attacks. DarkNeon just dodged. Patience and finesse made up for any lack of burst damage.

Azwold’s last drip of red flickered from his health bar and he bent a knee. The Light Rogue had won.

Panting, DarkNeon said, “Right then. Keys?” and held out her hand.

“I….” Azwold coughed confusion.

“You?” she said. “You…stand corrected? Yes, you do. Now let’s get going!”

The mage cast [Spell: Summon Skeleton], and I felt myself float into my bone pile. In a swirl of shadow and glitchy pixels, I stood. Then I gazed at him, quiet.

He gazed back, as if daring me to say ‘I told you so.’ I passed on the opportunity, and he nodded.

“Strange,” said DarkNeon, looking at her lemon prism tablet, “I don’t see a pending friend request from you. Also, where’s the [Gremlin Signal]?”

“How do you know that item name?”

“Relax, dude. All we did was visit the Eld’s graveyard,” she said. “Quit acting like it was some kinda dark underworld operation.”

“Oh yes,” I said, “now I remember.”

Azwold sighed.

“Hap Emerson has my toe,” I shrugged. “It is a known quantity and could have produced further recollections.”

“I see. So where’s the toe?” he asked.

“Locked within my yard,” I said. “You could have saved me a world of anguish by explaining ‘respawn timers.’ I expected to find her charred stump, but she stands?”

“Sorry, I was preoccupied at the time,” he said. “Our plan was a massive undertaking. We were lucky to pull it off.”

“Just in time too, I’d say,” said DarkNeon. “All of Gnarlroot Hill is blocked off ATM.”

“Blocked off?”

“Mhm. It says ‘Something wonky is going on here and we dunno how to fix it. Have a nice day!’ But with padlocks and high fencing. Subtle, in other words.”

“There were actual signs too, were there not?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, so yeah,” she said. “They said it literally, too. Down for renovation.”

“I see,” Azwold darkened. “Another spirit mage told me, but I wasn’t sure about him. Things are getting worse. We need to discuss options. Now.”

“Alright, let’s go!” said DarkNeon. “Ahem.”

Azwold was walking away.

“Listen,” she said, “I know you were spouting pre-duel macho stuff, but I do intend to drive. Gimme them keys, Azzy!”

Azwold halted, then handed her the [Gremlin Signal] with a grumble.

“Perfect!” she summoned the motorcar without hesitation. “We’re gonna need to keep this while you’re offline, BTW. Crafting a 2nd [Helm Wheel] might be wise, too. Eld needs to keep his.”

“Get in,” said Azwold, face sour. “We’ll discuss matters on the way.”

~<>*<>*<>~

Our quandary was this: focus on hatching plans to take down Telemoon, or focus on acquiring more of my lost bones. The consensus we reached was: a Telemoon presence at the next quest objective was a virtual certainty.

“We mustn’t work against such synergy of purpose,” I argued.

“Keep in mind that they’ll be expecting us,” said Azwold.

“I haven’t told you guys yet,” said DarkNeon, “but I can hide a second person with [Spell: Lenticular Bubble II]. I could take Eld into town without worrying too much.”

Azwold raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“Yep!” she said. “And, with my [Locator Beam] I can find him anywhere, so long as the rib’s attached.”

“Okay, okay,” said Azwold. “It sounds like you can do a few cool things. Happy?”

“Is he always like this?” she asked me through the rearview mirror.

I nodded.

“So if you do your shadow cloak ability and I use [Spell: Lenticular Bubble II], then we can just sneak around to wherever we need to go. Nice n’ quiet-like.”

“Unfortunately, Shadow is not among my schools. I can only cast [Spell: Umbral Veil] with the help of rare mats.”

“Such as?”

“[Gloomgill Bulb].”

“A what?”

“Exactly,” he said. “You can only get them from Fishing, and only in far away, nearly inaccessible places; like a secret stream deep under the Bone Bramble. Unless you get lucky and find a seller who isn’t into extortion… which is more rare than [Gloomgill]s.”

“The Bone Bramble?” she said, skeptical.

“I admit mine were bought, not caught. Sadly.”

“Not to disrupt this riveting fish discussion,” I said, “but, where are we going?”

“Right,” said Azwold. “The Soleus Mesa is separated from the surrounding lands by the Crescent Mountains to the west, Talus Bluffs, the Lower Sea, and Jagged Reef to the south. Then there’s a couple thousand feet, give or take, of mostly vertical cliff face curving a hundred miles northward from the sea. The cliffs wrap around the Mesa’s eastern face to rejoin the mountains in its northwestern highlands.”

“Yeah, it’s big. I know,” said DarkNeon.

“There are only a few known roads that lead up,” he continued. “For practical purposes, it’s like one of those floating islands, the size of a tiny continent.”

“And the roads up—if you can call them that—are dangerous, zigzaggy, and barely wide enough for a mount. Yolo can do it, though. Llama mounts have a plus to navigation in higher elevations.”

“It’s an option,” said Azwold. “My plan was to just drop some gold on a flightpath at a Cinder Veldt outpost. Is your llama a 3-seater?”

“No, but can’t you un-summon the Eld?”

“I don’t believe so,” he said. “Well, then, let’s see. The Acrophos Stair. It’s the nearest way up that I know of.”

“You think there’s hidden ways?”

“Aren’t there always in the Realm?”

“Okay, fair,” she said. “But we don’t have time to go looking for hidden pathways. What’s it gonna be? Flightpath or ‘Stairway to Anxiety?’”

“Neither delight me,” I said.

“Screw it,” said DarkNeon, “I’ll go halvsies. Let’s fly?”

“Done.”

~<>*<>*<>~

DarkNeon was a speed demon at the helm. And though our velocity filled me with jangly displeasure, watching Azwold squirm as a nervous passenger made up for it.

We traversed the coastal plain region inland from Dreen, rising gently in elevation as the sun dipped low. We crossed a riverless fall line and arrived at Sootgrass Outpost just prior to sundown. Only a wide hill. It was the highest elevation point for many miles; the reason for a flightpath’s location here, I surmised.

I gazed out across the Cinder Veldt in awe. The sea of orange and yellow grasses matched the shades of sunset, swirled through with patches of charred shrubs and grey earth. But when the sun yolked itself below horizon, shades of orange stayed. Flames flowed across the veldt as normal as ocean currents, sparking and dousing along with patterns of wind and weather. No matter the season, the Cinder Veldt was on fire somewhere.

“Alright,” said Azwold, “let’s find the roost master.” He held out a hand for the [Gremlin Signal] and though her face was reluctant, DarkNeon gave it back. He unsummoned the Gremlin.

Sootgrass Outpost boasted only four structures. Two were too small to house any flying mount, made of umber brick and amber glass. A sign hung from a larger brick building: Foxwing Tavern.

“Found him,” said DarkNeon, pointing at a wide, circular cob and tarred thatch enclosure.

“It would be difficult not to,” I said.

Emberfur Foxwings were magnificent beasts. I paused to marvel at my knowledge of them and their ground-bound Emberfur cousins. Bodies like mighty foxes, wings like fuzzy bats, and rust-colored coats which were warm to the touch. Their coats emitted occasional sparks, blinking in and out of sight like fireflies.

Warmth. A pang of having known a warm day or a cool breeze sent a shiver through me. Completing my bone collection might pave the way to feeling things again. But then again, being undead had its own benefits.

“Hey,” said the Rogue, “I’m gonna dip inside the tavern real quick. You guys mind?”

Azwold glared, then sighed. “How long?”

“I dunno… ten, fifteen minutes?” she shrugged. “I’ve just never been inside. Wanna check it out. Here,” she pulled out her tablet, “let’s make this party official. Sent.”

[DarkNeon has joined the party]

“And here’s a few hundred gold,” she tapped. “For this flight and the next one?”

“Alright,” said Azwold, “I’ll secure us a Foxwing, but let’s not stick around too long.”

“Don’t leave without me,” she said, grinning wide, then dashed off.

As we approached the roost master’s enclosure, Azwold removed his [Tomb Cloak] to hang over his shoulder. This small act sparked sensory envy, but I let it go, too pleased to be among a trio of Foxwings. I moved to pet one, though I knew the experience would feel incomplete.

“Hail, traveler,” said the roost master. “Be aware, you’re on Kindling land now. May I suggest renting one of my lovely Foxwings? You can be gone, swift as smoke.”

1) “Yes, show me flightpath options.”

2) “No thanks, I don’t smoke.”

3) “The Foxwings are lovely, aren’t they?” (Charm)

4) “Hey, are you trying to get rid of me?” (Intimidate)

“Ha,” I said. “I wish to see you charm this fellow.”

But Azwold predictably chose the most boring option.

“Very good,” said the roost master, then he displayed a map showing available destinations.

Azwold’s finger hovered over a place called Camp Starshot. Hesitating, he retrieved a bowl-sized device from his inventory, pressed a button, and a light flashed green. He stared critically at the roost master for a moment, assessing.

“What is this?” I said.

He deactivated the device and the green blinking ceased. “Don’t worry,” said Azwold. “He’s a normal NPC. I found this back in Dreen. Did a little tinkering. Bad guys use these to possess NPCs, but I changed it to detect them instead.”

“It appears you may have some uses after all,” I said.

He snorted at me.

“You speak to the Rogue this way, yes?”

He stared at me, assessing more critically than he had with the roost master, then his expression softened. “I’ll try to give her more space.”

I nodded.

And then we heard a slam. We peered from the roost entrance to see the Foxwing Tavern’s batwing doors burst open, splintering onto singed brick wall. In a shower of electric shocks, DarkNeon dashed out. She turned on a heel, digging into dirt, then bolted in our direction.

Another player charged after her through a thin smoke.

Then a few more.

“You were saying?” said Azwold. He peered through his night binoculars. “Oh, no. Nono.”

He turned and gave the roost master our flight fare. The NPC untied a Foxwing and handed the reigns to the mage.

“Time to go,” he said.

“Do you see her?” I said. “Look with your spyglass. She’ll be yellow.”

“I know. She’s invisible,” he said, leading the mount out of its enclosure and into the open. “Listen, Sparky over there? He looks like the Telegoon who jumped away in a spark ball. You perma-booted his big boy buddy. Remember? Stonesthrow?” Azwold stole another look in his binoculars. “Sprock3t. Yep, it’s him. And he’s got friends. Time to go now.”

Azwold climbed into the Foxwing’s saddle and lifted me up after. I scanned Sootgrass Outpost for a hint of her, but dusk had gone darker. Our mount’s leathery wings began beating.

In moments, we were floating up. I felt a sudden dip, and the beast yapped. But the Rogue materialized like a million tiny mirrors twirling, settling into the shape of a leather-clad woman climbing up the stirrup straps.

Our ascent resumed.

“Nice, guys,” she said, sullen.

“I had every confidence you’d make the flight,” said Azwold.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, “sure, sure. Anyway, here we go. No turning back now.”

“Why would we turn back?” I said.

“No, I just mean these flightpath mounts are kinda like a train track. Can’t change your flight plan once you confirm with the roost master.”

“Sit back and relax,” said Azwold. “We’ll be in Camp Starshot soon.”

I was veldt-gazing—though the scenery was a dark blur below—pondering the fast-growing orange grasses and scaly, succulent shrubs. DarkNeon interrupted to say, “You guys wanna see what I stole?”

“You pilfered from the Telemoon guys?” said Azwold. “No wonder…”

“Yeah, but it’s really cool, look.”

She began digging in her pack when there was a sudden shockwave to our right and above.

“What the?” DarkNeon ducked, darting her gaze around.

Another shockwave and I saw a silky black crescent cut through the air. It was opaque, like a scythe slash made of black smoke.

Azwold peered at Soleus Mesa’s distant rim, toward our destination. He growled, then shoved the spyglass device at me. “Look,” he said.

I saw someone on the cliff edge. Wielding a scythe, swinging it. The man looked like one of the spirit mages gathered near my graveyard’s gate. And what’s this!

“A skeletal minion?” I demanded. “How? This means he has passed my graveyard in the questline. Does it not?”

“I met that guy back in Dreen. He was level 26, maybe 27?” said Azwold. “Step 4 is level 30+. So how’d he level so quick and bypass the locked gate? And the ability he’s using is high level Shadow, not Spirit.”

“So you’re suggesting he’s breaking game rules too?” said DarkNeon.

“Could be,” he said. “This pays my debt to him. He must be in league with them. Eld, bundle yourself inside the [Grim, Dim Purple Coat]. Quickly. If Trojainous lands a hit, I don’t want to have to search miles for all your parts.”

“Ah,” I said, “wise.”

“I’m sorry guys,” said the Rogue. “They must have sent word ahead.”

I watched the Mesa grow closer as they bound me in rope.

We were nearly above the Mesa’s eastern rim when our Foxwing howled out into the sky. A shock sent the rope’s end whipping from Azwold’s hand. The last thing I saw before they secured my skull within the cloak’s hood was the beautiful beast’s left wing fly away in a stream of gooey, lava-like blood.

Then I was tumbling.

Then I was severed from my skeletal frame once again.

The swirling currents of the Spirit Realm swept me away.